


The Death of a Man of Violence

by AlwaysAmused, DaughterOfDungeonBat



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Assassin!Haytham, Blood and Injury, Connor is mentioned but plays no major role, F/M, Sad Ending, Serious Injuries, The Tyranny of King Washington, with a little fluff?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 08:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11310000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysAmused/pseuds/AlwaysAmused, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughterOfDungeonBat/pseuds/DaughterOfDungeonBat
Summary: Two assassins fled into the woods, but only one would make it home.And Ziio's fight against the tyrant king became personal.





	The Death of a Man of Violence

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the headcanons AlwaysAmused and I have for the events that happened before tToKW, specifically about Haytham and Ziio, based on some of Ziio's dialogue in the DLC. Title is based off of Ziio's line to Connor when urging him not to drink the willow tea.
> 
> Haytham and Ziio are married assassins. While that is normally a recipe for awesomeness, here it just leads to angst. Oops.

The crack of the gunshots almost stopped Ziio’s heart. Her feet seemed to pause in the air, hurtling momentum crashing to a halt. The fear was replaced by triumph when she felt no stabbing pain, and heard nothing but the heavy sound of bullets tearing through the bark of trees, a few small branches breaking behind her with a wet snap. Haytham’s louder footfalls still rang behind her; they had done it!

Ziio flicked her head to one side, signaling her husband to follow her into a nearly thicket, knowing that the distance and dense forest they had put between them and Washington’s men would keep them safe. She slid into the underbrush, near glowing with adrenaline. She held no scepter, but that hadn’t been the purpose of this mission. They had the information they needed, and the next time they approached the stronghold, they would leave with the Apple of Eden in their-

Haytham lurched into the clearing, snapping Ziio out of any thoughts that could be considered joyful. She leapt to her feet to help lower Haytham to the forest floor, and it was only then that she saw that he was far more wounded than she had feared.

A single line of dark blood dripped from his slack lips, his tongue and teeth stained the same red. Ziio could hear each breath rattling in his chest.

“Haytham!” Ziio cried, louder than she had meant to, but unable to hold it back.

“m’fine.” Haytham gasped sinking to the ground gracelessly. Only then did Ziio see the extent of his wounds. The back of Haytham’s robes; the dark, thick cloth that marked him as an assassin, were stained nearly black with blood below his shoulder blades. Ziio thought suddenly of the bullets striking the trees, and whether all the sounds she had heard had been entirely harmless.

“Exactly, you’re okay. You’re going to be fine, alright?” Ziio said with a forced smile, shifting until Haytham’s head rested in her lap and ignoring how much paler he had grown in the past few seconds. He smiled weakly, leaning into the familiar touch of Ziio’s hand against his cheek.

“ ‘re beautiful.” He said, and Ziio couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled in her chest.

“Save it until we’re home, okay?” Haytham nodded slightly, then coughed. Fresh blood welled up in his mouth, bubbling as he choked. Ziio reacted quickly, angling her husband’s head so he could breathe, blood spilling onto the leaves and the edges of her robes. Haytham gasped out the shattered fragments of an apology as Ziio stroked his hair and urged him to save his strength for the journey home. He only shivered in response.

There was a far-off crashing in the woods. Washington’s men were back.

“Ziio, go.” Haytham said, trying to push her away but simply lacking the strength.

“I’m not leaving without you.” Ziio responded quickly, removing the outer layer of her buckskin robes and covering Haytham’s trembling form, folding every edge to keep as much warmth under the soft cloak as possible.

“Ziio,” Haytham gasped out, another rivulet of red falling from his mouth as his fingers closed around his wife’s wrist. “They won’t find me here. You run, get back to the village, I’ll meet you there once I’ve rested.”

Ziio swallowed hard, suddenly aware of the lump in her throat.

“Do you promise me you’ll come home?”

“Promise.” Haytham said with a half-smile. Ziio gathered leaves and branches, placing them over him in hopes to provide more cover until he was well, trying to ignore the shuddering of his breathing and the wet coughs that sent scarlet drops of blood to the ground.

“I love you, Haytham.” Ziio said, running a hand over his hair and pressing small kisses to his forehead, brow, cheeks, and his copper-tainted lips.

“Konoronhkwa, Kaniehtí:io.” Haytham whispered against Ziio’s lips as they brushed over his, willing himself to ingrain to his memory the smile that bloomed over her lovely face when she heard the words. That beautiful smile that stayed as she all but flew through the forest, praying to be as swift and silent as the doe whose skin now protected Haytham from the cold that only he felt.

* * *

 She did not weep until she saw her son, and how his questioning eyes searched for his father who should have been following a step behind her.

* * *

A scouting party found his body two days later. Based on their estimates, Haytham Kenway had breathed his last not long after he had been left alone, drowning in the blood that had flooded his punctured lung from the moment he had been shot. He hadn’t been touched, he hardly appeared to have moved. Not a leaf had been disturbed, and he had died with Ziio’s robes still tucked around him.

And Ziio vowed that the tyrant king, and all who allied with him, would pay tenfold.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a sucker for these two as assassins, so hopefully I'll write something less heart-breaking in the future?


End file.
